


remember me when I'm reborn

by blackkat



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assumed Character Death, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mental Link, Pining, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 22:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17671469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Kamui's chuckle is low and thunderous, rolling through the darkness, and she breathes out a gust that smells of ash and night. Obito keeps stroking her whiskers, glancing over at where the harness for her rider hangs, carefully oiled and polished. He’s maintained it meticulously, even though Kamui hasn’t ever officially had a rider. Not that they need one.They had one, once. A partner, to both of them equally, but—Thirty seconds of connection probably doesn’t count as much of a partnership to anyone, even if it meanteverythingto Obito.





	remember me when I'm reborn

**Author's Note:**

> For KakaObi Week, Day 4: Fantasy | War. I picked both, because really, who could resist??

The wafts of humidity from the next cave over make Obito's skin itch, by turns too hot and then too dry, and he grimaces, eyeing the doorway to the neighboring cavern with annoyance. He’s asked Aoba a dozen times now to keep things closed off, but apparently he’s going to have to ask at least thirteen times before things make an impression, because there's _still_ no ward over the entrance.

“That bastard,” he mutters, and in the darkness there's a low, amused snort. The lamplight fractures and scatters across iridescent hide, streaks of ink-dark and galaxy-bright scales as Kamui lifts her head, and the dull red glow of her eyes is unsettling even to Obito, used to her and adoring of her as he is. There's no verbal response, but Obito gets a bright-warm burst of echoed irritation, itchy scales in the wet heat, and—

“We’re not eating Aoba,” Obito says firmly, because that thought was definitely _crunch_. Another burst of sticky-hot air makes him wince, and he mutters, “ _Yet_ ,” like Aoba will hear the implied threat. Maybe he’ll change tracks and start harassing Ibiki about the lack of wards; Aoba might be a forgetful asshole, but his partner is far more aware of the fact that the caves are a semi-shared space.

Kamui makes a softly, fluty sound, cocking her head, and the ripple of her tail in the darkness sends light scattering across the walls like stars as she curls up, stretching her neck out. her nose bumps Obito, and he sighs, reaching for her in return, leaning against her nose and letting her head, easily the size of his whole body, take his weight for a moment.

“Kumo's moving to the northeast,” he says, and Kamui hums, rich and resonant and curious. With a sigh, Obito pulls back, and when Kamui lifts her head again he follows the retreat, stepping right up to the edge of the cliff and sinking down to dangle his leg over the side, one knee pulled up against his chest. Opening his mind to her takes a simple easing of the boundaries between them, a touch of relaxation as the dragon-weight of her presence settles over his thoughts like a warm blanket. It’s easy to call up the memory of the strategy meeting he just left, Minato leaning over a wide map of the surrounding lands, Mikoto at his right hand calling up images of the forces, the numbers, the routes.

Kumo won't make it to Konoha. A has tested their defenses a dozen times since Minato took over as the Academy’s Headmaster, and he’s never even made it close to the city. There's nothing massively different about this attempt except the presence of a handful more dragons, and that won't change enough to make a difference.

Kamui studies the memories for several moments, immersing herself in them alongside Obito, until it feels like she was at the meeting too, hovering just over Obito's shoulder. Then a thought-question-feeling rises, and Obito can't help the sharp, unhappy sound that tears from him.

“After Mizuki? Minato wouldn’t _dare_ ,” he says disgustedly, and Kamui's growl is the roll of grinding glass, or a mountain falling. Her long, curving horns gleam as she tosses her head, and just for an instant, white teeth that are as long as swords flash in the dimness.

“Yeah, me too,” Obito mutters, because if Minato tries to shove _another_ terrible stand-in dragon rider at them, Obito isn't going to bother holding Kamui back the way he normally does. Mizuki proved himself a traitor barely three days into their partnership, and if that doesn’t show Minato was scraping the bottom of the barrel, Obito doesn’t know what does.

With a low, wavering coo, Kamui nudges at him again, then turns her head, and despite himself, Obito can't help a faint smile. He reaches out, hooking an arm over the curl of one ram-like horn, gets a foot on the curve of her neck, and lets her lift him right off the edge of the cliff. She’s careful as she eases him down to the floor of the cavern, but they’ve practiced the motion a thousand times, and Obito leaps off without waiting for her to get all the way down, lands lightly on the bed of thick moss she favors and lets himself slide down to sit. Kamui drops her head next to him, ember-bright eyes going half-lidded as she watches him, and Obito feels her ripple of question-excitement-stubbornness and smiles, reaching out to drag his fingers over the sensitive whiskers framing her nose and chin.

“Yeah,” he says wryly. “It’s not like Minato can stop us if we want to go. And they need bodies on the battlefield­—he wouldn’t be shoving shitty dragon riders at us if they didn’t. But we don’t need a single damned one of them, do we?”

Kamui's chuckle is low and thunderous, rolling through the darkness, and she breathes out a gust that smells of ash and night. Obito keeps stroking her whiskers, glancing over at where the harness for her rider hangs, carefully oiled and polished. He’s maintained it meticulously, even though Kamui hasn’t ever officially had a rider. Not that they need one.

They had one, once. A partner, to both of them equally, but—

Thirty seconds of connection probably doesn’t count as much of a partnership to anyone, even if it meant _everything_ to Obito.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says, because if he doesn’t talk to Kamui the silence in the cavern starts to weigh on him. He didn’t bother talking for a long time after they lost their dragon rider, and sometimes it feels like silence is all too easy to fall back on, a habit that can easily rise up and swallow them again. Minato was _desperate_ to get Obito to talk back then, and for all his irritation with the man Obito definitely doesn’t want to see him in that state again. Better for all of them if Obito just keeps talking to Kamui and pretends like he doesn’t miss having a human voice answering him instead of just dragon-thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says again, more firmly this time, and Kamui's red eye opens just a fraction more as she watches him steadily. “Raidō and Iwashi keep getting overrun on their flank when Minato uses the basic formation. Kumo's going to target them specifically, especially if they attack near the Valley of the End. We can probably get to them before Hayate and Izumo can, and take the Kumo forces by surprise from the west.”

Kamui chuckles again, anticipatory and hungry, and her eyes flicker with a forge-fire heat as she tips her head.

“Yeah,” Obito says, answering with a smirk of his own. “They won't have a damned idea what’s hit them until it’s too late.”

In the velvet darkness of the deepest parts of the cavern, there's a rustle, a shift. Kamui refolds her wings, light from the entrance and from above sliding across them like water to splinter across the pit’s walls. Obito lets out a soft breath, leaning forward the cross his arms on her nose, and closes his eyes. She’s beautiful. She’s always been beautiful, right from the moment she hatched, and Obito is absolutely biased, but he’s also right in saying there's no other dragon in the Academy who can come close to her. There never has been.

It aches, somewhere deep down in her chest, to think of what they lost. Not just—not just the obvious, when the cave collapsed, but what they should have right now. If they had a third, if there was a dragon rider who could last more than a few days at most with them, other people might actually recognize just how amazing Kamui is. There's a nebulous sort of awareness right, now, but—nothing real. She’s big, and she’s intimidating, and right now both of them are a prize to be won, a challenge for the best riders to see if they can conquer this obstacle no one before has been able to.

Obito hates it. _Loathes_ it, because they _had_ a third, and sometimes the only thing Obito can feel is the aching, empty stump of where the bond used to be, still bleeding even twenty years later. And it’s _Obito's_ fault that it was lost. If he’d been better, if he’d been just a little quicker—

But he wasn’t. He was the most useless student in the Academy, couldn’t manage to hatch their egg even after he graduated, even after he was paired. Tried and tried to make his magic work, but he was a failure of a witch right from the start, and that didn’t change until the very moment he got Kakashi killed.

With a quiet, mournful sound, Kamui lifts her head. She pushes up, powerful shoulders rising until she’s at her full height, massive talons digging into the moss and stone. A little startled, Obito raises his head to look up at her, and she bends her sinuous neck to nudge him gently, then slides back. The snakelike curve of her body coils right past Obito, the tip of her tail hooking him and dragging him closer, and Obito snorts and moves with it as she folds back down, lifting one wing. Technically, Obito has a bedroom off her cavern, a real bed with a mattress and blankets, but he slides under her wing anyway, dropping to the soft moss and settling against the curve of her forearm.

Kamui croons, sends him a burst of _sad-sleep-bright dawn_ , and loops her neck around so that her head rests right next to him. A gust of hot breath is enough like a gentle reprimand that Obito snorts, and he reaches up to trace the edge of one of her horns.

“Bossy,” he says, though it’s hardly a complaint.

 _Amusement_ echoes back across the bond, but coal-bright eyes are sliding shut, and the weight of sleep is sliding down the bond, curling through Obito's veins. He sighs, giving her horns one more stroke before he lets his head drop against her shoulder and closes his eyes as well. Tomorrow promises to be a fight, even if Kumo doesn’t advance as far as Minato thinks they will. It’s going to be Monday, and that means Minato will likely have a new rider candidate, no matter what good sense and tact should tell him.

Obito's never going to want a new rider, though. They had one, and there's no replacing him. Even trying feels like a betrayal, and Obito betrayed him enough as it is. He isn't going to compound that, no matter what Minato wants.

 

 

There's another dragon in the field when Kamui hauls them out of her pit in the morning, emerging into the early morning sunlight with a ripple of bright-dark scales. Obito takes one look at him and has to strangle a groan, because Rin might be a morning person but Kurenai usually _isn't_ , and Obito had foolishly thought that he could slip out to the feeding grounds without them knowing.

Kamui chirps a greeting at Isobu, a ridiculously light, sweet sound for the hellbeast that she is, and Isobu hums back, lifting his head to bump noses with her. Obito rolls his eyes, gets a tolerantly amused _polite-friend-be nice_ from his dragon, and huffs in response. Isobu chuckles, deep and rolling, and then turns, tipping his head. The ice crystals on his wide horns glitter, and Obito pauses, wanting to frown, because given the temperature that’s a lot of magic to be feeding through the dragon already, but before he can ask there's a call.

“Obito!” Rin shouts, and Obito glances up to where she’s leaning out of Isobu’s cave, careful of the ice that pours from the mouth of it like a waterfall. She waves, her smile bright, and Kamui doesn’t need any prompting to rise up, digging her claws into the cliff and lifting her head up until Obito, perched between her horns, is right at eye level with Rin.

“Morning,” Obito says, and glances from Isobu to Rin with a raised brow. “You're up early.”

Rin's grin says she knows what he’s implying. “Kurenai has a meeting with Asuma and Minato,” she says, “so she has to head out soon.”

There's a sigh, and from the ice-shadows beyond the entrance, Kurenai appears, looking slightly more ruffled than normal. She still offers Obito a smile, though, and says, “I swear Asuma schedules these things just to see me at my worst.”

“Your worst is a lot better than his best,” Obito says dryly, and Kurenai laughs.

“Seconded,” Rin says cheerfully, and then glances at Kamui. “Want to give us a lift down? I can ask Isobu, but he’s entirely focused on getting to his food as fast as possible right now and forgot we can't fly.”

From below, there's a huff and a rustle as Isobu resettles his wings, but dragon makes no move to push Kamui away from his witch and rider. Obito sends Kamui a questioning thought, and her answer is tolerant amusement, a touch of agreement.

“Sure,” he says, and offers a hand. “I think she’s big enough for three.”

“I hate to be the one to tell you, but your dragon is big enough for _fifteen_ ,” Rin says, a little wry, but she takes Obito's hand and pulls herself onto Kamui's head, shifting aside to give Kurenai room.

“She’s big-boned,” Obito counters, unperturbed. With a chuff of laughter, Kamui carefully pulls back from the cave, dropping back to the field and lowering her head to let them jump off. As soon as Obito is steady, Kamui turns to nudge him, then offers up a flicker of _food-hunt-chase-feast_ that’s very pointed and turns. Obito scoffs, but doesn’t protest as she surges forward, wings sweeping up. The serpentine back half of her body bunches, her powerful front legs dig in, and with a heave she’s leaping, huge wings snapping open and down. In the sunlight, her scales glitter with deep tones of blue-violet-green against the black, and just for an instant Obito is right with her, watching the ground fall away, feeling the catch of the wind under their wings and smelling the blood from the hunting grounds in the air. Then a deep chuff startles him back to himself, and he turns to find Kurenai at Isobu’s side, rubbing his furry nose and his sharp tusks. The dragon shakes out his thick mane, then turns and picks up a trot, apparently not wanting to bother flying this time, and Kurenai sighs, stepping back.

“We need to take him up more,” she says, frowning faintly. “He doesn’t fly much.”

“He has a lot of bulk to get off the ground,” Rin points out, hooking an arm through Kurenai’s with a smile.

Kurenai tips a hand, allowing that, but her eyes follow the retreating shape of Obito's dragon in the sky. “So does Kamui. She’s about four of Isobu put together.”

“Kamui is also built for flying,” Obito says dryly. “She’s a wyvern, so being on the ground is harder for her.”

Kurenai still doesn’t look entirely satisfied, but she nods. “Still—”

With a quiet laugh, Rin leans into her. “We can take him up more if you want,” she says. “It’s not like it’s _bad_ for him.”

“ _He’s_ convinced it is.” But Kurenai turns her hand, linking her fingers with Rin's, and smiles down at her. “Breakfast?”

“Probably a good idea,” Rin agrees, and turns a smile on Obito. “Coming?”

Obito hesitates, but Kamui is still paying attention enough to send him a burst of _yes-do it-go eat_ that makes him sigh, and he nods reluctantly. “I'm under orders, apparently.”

“Kamui enjoys looking out for you.” Rin makes an imperious gesture at him, and Obito rolls his eyes but steps close enough for her to hook their elbows together, and it’s difficult to resist a smile at his best friend.

“Kamui isn't the only busybody in my life,” Obito retorts, but he keeps pace with them as they make for the stone arch at the entrance to the Academy. There are several dragons waiting outside, either sprawled out in the sun or grooming each other. He recognizes the butterfly wings of Izumo’s dragon, thinks he sees the orange-brown fur of Iruka’s Haimaru half-buried under the sprawled-out wings of Kabuto's dragon with her feathers spread to catch the light. None of them stir as they pass, though, and Rin laughs a little, stepping over the tip of a tail where it stretches across the steps.

“You're in good company this morning,” she teases. “None of the dragons want to be up, either.”

Kurenai pulls a face. “I don’t see Asuma's dragon,” she says. “He’d better be done with breakfast and in the meeting hall already, because if he’s not up yet I'm never going to let him live it down.”

Obito is fairly certain that if Asuma is late, it’s going to be Zabuza’s fault, but he doesn’t say as much. The fact that Asuma ended up paired off with a man who betrayed his home city is still a touchy topic for Kurenai, and Obito would rather not have to listen to that particular rant all over again during breakfast. Pulling away from the women, he steps ahead of them, grazes his fingers over the door with a touch of power to make it swing open, and then quickens his step to get the door to the dining hall for them.

Kurenai gives him a quick smile in thanks, brushing past him, and asks over her shoulder, “Did the headmaster mention anything about new prospects for you?”

The flicker of easy relaxation in Obito's gut sours into irritation and no small amount of dread. “Not yet,” he says grimly, and even if Minato _does_ call him into his office, he’s not going to be able to stop Obito from taking off with the rest of the dragons. Obito might be a witch, but Kamui is strong, and she’s smart, and Obito's own power has been growing since he was thirteen. He can keep up with any rider in the Academy, even if witches are supposed to stay off the battlefield.

Rin gives him a sharp look that says she knows exactly what he’s planning, but she doesn’t argue, just leads the way to an open table. “Your usual?” she asks Obito, and Obito gives her a crooked smile. She knows he doesn’t like the crowd around the kitchens.

“Sure,” he says, and settles into the closest chair. “I’ll save the table.”

“Teamwork,” Rin says cheerfully enough, and heads for the kitchens. Obito watches her and Kurenai disappear into the crowd of riders and witches, then drags his eyes away, glancing up at the witchfire dancing overhead instead. He can feel Kamui's surge of intent somewhere close, the bunching of muscles and the dive, the flicker of irritation when her prey manages to dodge her, and rubs a hand over his scars, trying to let the dragon-feeling fade. Minato gets worried if he thinks Obito and Kamui are too close, the bond too strong, and Obito would rather not hear that particular set of lectures again, either.

 _Foolish_ , Kamui sends him, and Obito gets a flicker-flash of wide dark wings dipping as she turns to circle the feeding grounds.

 _Me or Minato?_ Obito sends back, and Kamui's chuckle is the only answer.

Obito smiles, just a little, still faintly tired, and drags a hand over his hair. They need to find somewhere to practice, after breakfast. Somewhere that won't be so far away that they’ll miss the call to arms when it comes, but also distant enough that no one watching from the Academy will see them. Obito isn't about to make things easy for whatever riders Minato dumps on him; if they want to know what Kamui can do, they have to not be assholes and find out for themselves. The same for anyone trying to find out just how much magic Obito has; he avoids practicing in the main halls for a lot of reasons, but that’s the main one.

 _I'm tired_ , he thinks, and Kamui picks up on it even though it’s not a thought intended for her. Her sympathy feels like hot scales in the darkness, streaks of white against the deep colors of her body where the rocks came down on top of them. Damaged scales, Tsunade said, but they’ve never grown in right, even with all of Kamui's molts. The same way Obito's scars have never healed, despite all of Tsunade's efforts.

The broken bond in Obito's head stings like a fresh wound, and he breathes through it, pushes past it as best he can. That’s never going to heal, either, and at this point Obito isn't sure he wants it to.

Rin and Kurenai’s voices pull him back to the dining hall, and he glances up, watching them approach. They're entirely focused on each other, smiling, and it’s…soft. Obito looks away, because there's nothing else to do, because he never had that even in the handful of moments when he thought he could. It’s not that he resents Rin her happiness, but—

It’s just a regret, that’s all. One more on top of the pile that Obito has, and hardly even something to think about in light of that.

“Here you are!” Rin says brightly, and a tray lands on the table in front of Obito’s seat. She slides into the chair across the table, immediately starting in on her food, and Kurenai smiles fondly.

“The scouts are back,” she tells Obito as she sits, stirring a packet of sweetener into her caff.

Obito blinks, surprised, and glances over at the door of the kitchen. If he looks carefully, he can pick out the tips of Kotetsu’s spiky hair half-hidden behind the door, and he raises a brow. “Aren’t they supposed to be gone for another two weeks? I didn’t think things with Kiri were that peaceful.”

Kurenai hums, her eyes on the back of Kotetsu’s head as well. “Utakata and Kotetsu were still in the south, along the coast, when they turned back. Apparently they found something, though Kotetsu wouldn’t say what.”

For a loudmouth, Kotetsu can be startlingly tight-lipped when it comes to keeping important secrets. Obito suspects it’s why he was the first candidate when Utakata turned up as an unpaired witch, a near-refugee from one of Konoha's more nebulous allies. “You didn’t turn him upside down and shake him for more information?” he asks dryly. “If you're learning restraint it’s definitely not from Rin, so tell me your secret.”

Rin kicks him under the table without hesitation. “ _You_ don’t get to say that to anyone,” she says primly, and Obito kicks her back with a glare.

“Children,” Kurenai says, long-suffering. “Don’t make me separate you.”

Rin flings a toast crumb at her in retaliation. “Eat,” she orders. “If you're groggy and crabby all morning, you're going to take it out on Asuma, and then Zabuza will take it out on _you_ , and then I’ll have to murder him to defend your honor.”

She pulls a face, but sets her caff aside and pulls her eggs closer. “I see no downsides to that.”

“You will when Minato calls you into his office to give you the Disappointment Face,” Obito says frankly, and Kurenai winces, conceding that.

“If Kotetsu and Utakata are already back,” she says, very deliberately changing the subject, “they must have found something big. There's not a lot happening on the eastern coast, not with Kumo to the northeast and Madara in the northwest, but there's still enough that no scout would abandon mission lightly.”

Obito pokes at a slightly rubbery chunk of egg, then gives up and picks up his apple instead. “Maybe something washed up,” he offers, and glances over at the doorway back into the main part of the Academy, checking for Minato as voices swell. There's no hint of him, just Izumo bursting into the hall and making a beeline for Kotetsu. Hayate follows more slowly, but he’s smiling, and when he catches Obito watching he tips his head in greeting. Obito nods back, then deliberately turns away, finishing his apple in a handful of bites.

Kamui is still hunting, annoyed with how many other dragons are in the area. Annoyed enough that she isn't paying attention at the moment, so Obito shoves his tray to the side and picks up his caff, taking a sip that’s still black and molten hot. It’s a relief, enough to make him sigh, and when he glances up Kurenai is giving him a sympathetic smile. She lifts her own mug in toast, then asks, “Are you going to take a shift in the tower today?”

Obito grimaces. “No one wants me in the tower,” he retorts. “And besides, I have better things to do than freak out the new witches.”

“They don’t _freak out_ ,” Rin says, a little mulish. “Just­—you're strong, Obito. And your magic is a little…”

“Abrasive?” Obito finished for her, arching a sardonic brow. He’s heard all the complaints before, generally from whatever sacrificial rider Minato attempts to pair him with, but sometimes from the other witches as well.

Before the cave, Obito had been…normal, more or less. There was certainly no overwhelming edge of anger and darkness to his magic, or what there was of it. He was a weak witch, hadn’t even managed to hatch his dragon by the time he graduated, but beyond that there was nothing _strange_ about him. Just the fact that Sarutobi paired him up with the best rider in class, like that was somehow able to make up for Obito's deficiencies.

It _hurts_ , still, remembering the angry bewilderment stamped into every line of Kakashi’s body after their first practice together. Kakashi had been expecting someone who could put his talents to use, like Genma, or maybe Rin. Not the dead-last boy who could barely throw a spell on a good day. And Obito had _known_ he could do better, had _tried,_ but—

It took falling rocks and darkness and pain shattering down the bond for Obito to manage anything at all. The rocks fell, and the egg Obito had carried with him since the day he entered the Academy finally, _finally_ hatched. Obito had been overwhelmed by a paired dragon-sense crashing into his head, distracting him for that one crucial second.

It was his fault for not being better, just a little quicker. Kamui was born just as her rider— _their_ rider—died, and nothing has ever fit right since. Not Obito's magic, and none of the dragon riders Minato has paraded before them, and not the world at large, empty of Kakashi where he once took up so much of the space in Obito's life.

The surging, bloody triumph of Kamui's kill splinters through Obito, and he finds himself pushing to his feet before he can even contemplate the motion, rising and collecting his largely untouched tray. “Sorry,” he says, and doesn’t mean it. “Kamui wants me.”

Rin doesn’t try to argue, though she watches him with careful eyes. “Of course,” she says, and smiles. “I’ll see you later, Obito.”

“Later,” Obito agrees, and takes his leftovers to the staff of Academy students in charge of cleaning up. There are a few new faces there, a girl with her hair in buns who beams at him excitedly, a boy with long dark hair and pale eyes, another boy in green who’s practically bouncing in excitement. Obito considers trying for a smile, but before he can decide whether it’s worth the effort the girl leans forward over the counter.

“Are you the one with the huge dragon?” she asks excitedly. “The big black one with the red eyes?”

Obito pauses, a little startled, but dips his head. “Yeah,” he says, maybe a little brusquely, but he’s the very furthest thing from good with kids. “That’s Kamui.”

“She’s beautiful!” the girl says, and beams at him. “I hope my dragon is that strong someday.”

Something in Obito's chest turns over, and his next breath is hard to draw. He’d spent _years_ in the Academy hoping for a massive, powerful war-dragon, something monstrous and grand. And when he got her, in that moment, he would gladly have traded away all of her strength and power—and every centimeter of his own, as well—for Kakashi’s continued survival.

“Worry about that less,” he says, and the words come out full of sharp edges, “and focus more on working with your partner well. Believe me, that’s a hell of a lot more important.”

The girl’s eyes widen, and she draws back a little. Obito doesn’t stay, even though an apology for being an ass is on the tip of his tongue. Turns, instead, and only just manages not to bolt from the dining hall. The scarred side of his body _aches_ , and he knows it’s psychosomatic, knows there's nothing actually crushing him, pinning him to the earth with no hope of tearing himself free, but the logic means nothing.

Just as he trips down the front steps, almost falling over the edge of a wing before Izumo's dragon can wrench it back, there's low growl that rolls like thunder, loud in the sky. A dark shape drops, easily twice as large as any of the other dragons waiting, but Obito doesn’t pause. Kamui hits the ground hard, black smoke curling from her mouth, and she surges forward, snakelike and swift as her claws dig furrows into the earth. Her wings spread out, beat hard, and she looks even bigger that way, twice as intimidating and more deadly than anything.

Obito jumps, gets a foot on the bend of her leg, catches the curve of her neck, and hauls himself up. There's no harness, no easy handhold, but it’s good enough. They’ve practiced this move enough times not to need either, and when Obito tightens his knees against her back Kamui turns instantly. Muscles bunch, and she drags her self into several long, building strides, then launches herself into the air with a thunderous clap of wings.

 

 

Kamui is halfway through her third kill of the day when the sound of the warning bells reaches their deserted corner of the training grounds. Instantly, she lifts her head, even as Obito closes his eyes and grimaces.

“At least Minato hasn’t found us yet,” he mutters, and it’s true enough. Minato has been calling for them through his dragon all morning, but it’s distant enough that they can pretend not to hear, and Obito's taken full advantage of that. If he gets too close, if he answers, Minato will probably try to foist another rider on them, or worse, try to confine them to their cavern for the coming fight. Obito isn't about to let that happen, so they're keeping well away from the Academy proper.

Kamui chortles, smoke spilling from her mouth. A few more quick, tearing bites finish off the carcass, and she turns, crouching down next to Obito's rock. More than ready to move, Obito grabs the straps of her harness, hauling himself up into the saddle perched at the base of her neck, and checks that their packs are full and carefully tied shut.

 _Fight-win-fury_ Kamui sends him, and it tastes of blood and gleeful destruction. **_Crunch_**.

Obito laughs before he can help it, because she’s been spending _far_ too much time around Zabuza and Kubikiribōchō. “Third breakfast, really?” he asks, and Kamui chuckles, twisting her head around to check that he’s seated and then sliding forward. She doesn’t make to launch herself into the air, even as thunderclap wings beat above them. Obito tips his head back, scanning the sky, and—

Konoha's dragon riders taking off will always be an awe-inspiring sight. Hundred of dragons in the sky, a hundred thousand colors scattered across scales and fur and feathers, perfectly arranged wingtip to wingtip as they leave the bowl of the valley where the Academy rests. As they go, Obito can feel the tide of magic that rises, deep and heavy as the ocean, each thread wound around a different dragon and rider. The witches starting their support, he knows, and breathes out, closing his eye.

If things had gone differently, he’d be with them right now, watching Kakashi and Kamui leave. He’d be another witch, sidelined even though it was _his_ magic that hatched Kamui, that grew her from a soul-stone to an egg and then into a dragon.

 _Gratitude-strength-eat the enemy to show our might_ Kamui sends him, even as she keeps low, heading for the edge of the valley that stands empty, waiting for the next crop of dragons and their teams. Obito snorts, but leans forward, twisting his fingers into the straps around her neck, and lets the first threads of his own magic rise. His power is harsh, jagged-edged like broken glass, but Kamui hisses in glee as it washes over her, the red of her glowing eyes brightening, her wings flaring out. darkness ripples across her scales, glittering over the streaks of galaxy-bright colors, and she surges up, hauling herself right up the cliff-face as she heads for the top. The wings have passed, already vanishing into the distance, but that just means their timing is perfect. There’s no one to see Kamui come to an abrupt halt at the edge of the plateau, wings flaring, head raised.

Obito strokes her neck, trying to steady his breathing as he stares out into the open air. Behind them, the bowl of the valley is ringed with clouds, but it’s clear beyond, and Obito can see the narrow ribbon of the river winding into the distance. On the other side of it, past the stretch of deep forest beyond it, Kumo's forces have likely assembled. They’ve been testing the border for months now, A trying everything to draw Minato into an all-out war, and—it’s working. Konoha can't just defend forever.

“Ready?” Obito murmurs, and Kamui drops her head, hissing eagerly. Her long tail lashes, and she tenses, ready to launch herself after the wings.

They don’t need to follow, though. They can get to the battlefield first, and Obito intends to take full advantage of that.

He builds the image in his mind, Kumo's forces arrayed as Minato's battleplans said, waiting for the onslaught of Konoha's dragons. Empty space behind them, with their supply trains and storage set up against the hills. A wide open area, because they’ll see the dragons coming, won't have to worry about anyone sneaking up on them, and if someone _does_ it won't likely be more than one dragon, invisible and quick but alone.

But they won't be expecting Kamui.

With a surge of muscle and might, Kamui flings herself over the edge of the plateau, lets them fall in a headlong rush towards the ground so far below. It rises fast, forest and green and rain-scent as they fall through a cloud, and Obito grabs his magic, breaks the seal.

It’s like a hurricane breaking through fragile barriers, like rage and fire and fury crashing into cobweb-thin restraints. The wash of it is crystalline and dark, and it floods every inch of Kamui's body, shines in her scales until she’s a falling star, and _snaps_.

The forest below them becomes a dark dimension full of galaxies with no name, empty space for a hundred thousand years all around, a burning-beautiful _here we rule this is our world_ —

And they're out the other side.

The land by the river is lower than the forest around the plateau by almost a hundred feet, and Obito timed their exit perfectly, calculated it down to the last inch. They burst into open air, and in the same moment Kamui snaps her wings open, catching the wind with a thunderous clap. They’re a dozen feet above a bank of soldiers on dragonback, and Kamui roars her delight, plunging through their ranks like a falcon through a flock of sparrows. Her powerful claws snatch at vulnerable wing-joints, at throats, at eyes, and her tail sweeps riders right off their dragons and knocks them towards the earth.

 _Glee,_ she sends at Obito, even as screams rise, as the Kumo riders try to react to a sudden enemy in their midst even as the first of the Konoha wings appear on the horizon.

Obito laughs, and then they’re through the wing, dropping fast. He grabs for the wide battle-fan and long knife strapped to the saddle, concentrates for half a second—

They crash through galaxy-bright night and out, emerge right above the flanking wing, and this time a massive dragon rises to meet Kamui, only half a second too slow. Kamui's talons snatch at his face, tear through delicate scales as she screams her fury, and Obito kicks his legs free of the straps, swings a leg over Kamui's saddle, and leaps.

There's half an instant of stomach-churning freefall, and then impact. He hits the other dragon’s back as it surges up to try and gut Kamui, and doesn’t wait. Even as the other rider’s eyes go wide, his mouth dropping open, Obito slams a kick into the center of his chest, slashes the ties holding him into the saddle. A heavily muscled arm grabs at him, but Obito leaps it, lands on the enemy dragon’s neck, and brings the fan around, catching the ride with the flat of it. With a cry, the rider goes flying, and the dragon roars a denial. It surges down, and Obito leaps, just a touch of magic carrying him high as he twists.

Kamui catches him, just the way she always does, and Obito lands hard in the saddle, _laughs_.

With an answering battle-cry, Kamui surges up, turns over, folds her wings. As they fall, Obito raises his hands, magic crackling across his fingers, and opens just the _edge_ of that other world full of stars.

Fire roars out, a simple Katon spell amplified a thousand-fold. The hungry, consuming spiral of it follows them down, right through the ranks of Kumo dragons, and it’s sheer chaos, a hundred riders trying to get out of the way, no general to get them back in position, and Obito laughs, wicked and angry and full of fury. Kamui answers him, snaps her wings open at the very last moment, and the jerk of air hauls them back up into the sky as her claws skim the earth. They rise, wings beating hard, and Obito bares his teeth as the general’s battered dragon dives for them, all fury and lightning—

 _Shift_.

Kamui pulls back, dark fire crackling from her jaws, and beneath them the supply tents are so perfectly unprotected. A handful of soldiers are running, a squad of dragons is sweeping in, but they won't get there in time. Obito leaps down, letting the fan slow his fall, hits the ground and rolls, and Kamui surges up to meet the first dragon, tiny against her bulk.

This is enough, Obito thinks, even as he twists the fan around, blocking the first burst of lightning that crackles from a guard’s fingertips. Konoha is closing, and Kumo is in disarray, and if Obito can just take out their supplies even Minato can't complain about his presence here. He just needs to give Kamui a chance to burn everything without the witches on guard getting in the way.

Snarling, he slams bodily into a man trying to summon a whirl of water, elbows him hard in the side of the head, and catches the blade of a descending sword on his knife. Twists, kicking out hard, and knocks the swordswoman flat onto her back with a wheeze. She doesn’t get up, and Obito grabs the last one, flips him over his shoulder, catches the whip of fire that snaps towards his face. The Kumo witch’s eyes widen, and Obito laughs, cruel and full of teeth.

“Weren’t expecting another witch, were you?” he mocks, and slams the hilt of his knife into the man’s temple just as a dragon with shredded wings crashes into the tent beside them. Above him, Kamui roars, and—

 _Victory-triumph-blood on our teeth-claws ready-rip- **tear**_ —

Obito staggers, dragon-sense suddenly too close, too heavy. Tries to catch himself, but he can't tell if he has wings or hands, feels something approaching but it could be wind-mud-water-dragonscent or it could be sword-blade-teeth-bared- _human_ -danger and he can't _tell_.

He-Kamui- _they_ scream in fury, and there's a crackling burst of violet-black fire catching the tents all around, stinging Obito's-Kamui's- _their_ throat as it emerges. Dimly, distantly, Obito feels a burst of pain—

Comes back to himself, wrenched out of Kamui's mind to find a sword plunging straight towards his chest.

With a curse, he spins, too slow. The blade opens a line of fire and blood across his chest, makes him gasp even as he flings a handful of fire right in the man’s face. He yelps, and Obito sweeps his feet out from under him, slams him into the ground, and feels the second Kumo soldier coming up behind him just an instant too late.

Kamui screams a warning, tries to dive for him past the dragons blocking her way and _can't_. Obito has half a second to brace himself for a sword through the spine—

There's a thud, a cry, a thump. A body hits the ground next to Obito, and he spins to his feet, turning sharply.

A white-masked face stands over him, anonymous but _burning_ in his senses, and Obito's breath catches, eye widening. For an instant he can't move, doesn’t even know _why_ except that he can't look away­—

Kamui hits the ground beside them, and the two dragons follow half a second later, crashing to the earth with screams as they try to make broken wings work. Kamui gives a dragon-laugh, claws digging deep into the earth, and turns.

 _Good_ , Obito sends her, and snaps out a hand. The same dark fire crackles from his fingers, leaping across the stand of tents. But it meets other fire, fire that doesn’t taste of Obito's magic as it tears through the camp from the other direction. Obito pauses, startled, and turns to the masked man.

“You?” he asks.

There's a pause that feels equally startled, and then the man nods. He sheathes his sword in a smooth motion, reaches out, and offers Obito a hand. Automatically, Obito takes it, and the stranger pulls him to his feet.

“I didn’t think witches ended up on battlefields very often,” he says, a little dry.

Obito grimaces. “They don’t,” he returns, shoves his weapons into their holders, and grabs for the strap of Kamui's saddle, thankfully still in one piece. Hauls himself up, then leans over, reaching out, and asks, “Staying?”

There's no way to see the man’s face, but there's amusement in his voice as he answers, “I think it’s getting a little warm for my tastes,” and grips Obito's wrist, letting himself be pulled up behind Obito's seat.

With a snort, Obito leans forward, wrapping the takeoff straps around his arm. “Hang on to me,” he orders. “Kamui takes a little more effort to get off the ground than some.”

Kamui's huff is indignant, but she surges forward, talons tearing into the ground, body bunching, and then launches herself hard into the air. He wings snap open wide, catching the air and beating down with one strong push to send them soaring up, and an arm wraps bruising tight around Obito's waist as there's a strangled gasp. Obito ignores it; once Kamui is in the air she’s unstoppable, but getting there takes a bit of a jolt. It’s one of the reasons he tries not to let himself hit the ground very often, but sometimes it’s necessary.

“Who are you?” he calls back, over the wind as they rise.

There's a pause, and then the man lets out a soft sound that’s almost a laugh. “Aren’t you supposed to ask me that before you give me open access to your back?” he asks, and a single fingertip touches the nape of Obito's neck, right over his spine.

Obito doesn’t flinch. “You’re almost five hundred feet in the air, on top of my dragon,” he says flatly. “I’m a witch. And—”

Half an instant of concentration, and then they're falling through a world of galaxies.

The masked man freezes, and Obito can feel his breath catch. Point made, he snorts, and Kamui's wings catch sunlight as they drop out of other-space, swooping in a lazy, low arc towards a particularly tall stand of trees. They bow together, like a cavern, and Kamui hits the ground with a jolt, slides right into the tangle of trunks and catches herself, pulling them to a halt. Obito hisses as he jars the cut across his chest, but drags the straps loose, then swings over and slides to the ground, catching himself and staggering upright.

Beyond their grove, just visible through the wide trunks, he can see Konoha's wings crash headlong into the confusion that still is Kumo's ranks, the lithe golden form of Minato's Hiraishin leading. Obito wonders what witch is filling in for him today, or if Minato went without a witch’s support, the way he sometimes does. Hiraishin’s witch died while they were still in the Academy, and Obito will never not be bitter about the fact that Minato is allowed to fight and Obito isn't. Not that it’s stopped him.

“You're bleeding,” the stranger says from behind him, and Obito rolls his eye but turns. now that Minato's on the battlefield, Obito is best served staying off of it; it gives both of them plausible deniability, to a degree, and Minato's usually more reasonable about not locking Obito and Kamui in their den when he doesn’t actually catch them in the fight. Not that _that_ has stopped them, either.

“Really? I didn’t notice,” he snaps, and Kamui chuckles, settling into the leaflitter and coiling up like a snake. Her burning eyes study the stranger for a moment, and she sends Obito a burst of _like him-feel that?-cold lightning-warm earth_ that’s strong enough to make Obito sway. Grimacing, he puts a hand to his head, and the echoes of how they fell together on the battlefield are still there, persistent and dizzying. Witches and dragons are a little too close to fight in such proximity, and Obito can usually balance them, but­—

“Easy.” A hand catches his elbow, holding him on his feet as he sways. Above them, Kamui makes a soft sound of concern, and the stranger says, “I'm not going to hurt him, just—”

Kamui's response to that is a rude snort, and the tip of her tail curls around them, dragging them up close to her side. Apparently satisfied, she drops her head to the ground, watching through half-lidded eyes as the stranger pauses.

“Ignore Kamui, she’s pushy,” Obito says, and pulls away enough to sink to the ground, tugging his shirt open. The slash is long and deep, carved over his ribs, but sparks of black-bright magic are already flickering around it, dancing across the open flesh and forcing it to close. It will scar, but—

Well. It’s hardly Obito's first scar.

There's a long moment of silence, and then a breath. The man crouches down in front of him, and one hand rises automatically, like he’s about to touch Obito's chest. He stops short, and Obito raises a questioning brow.

Through the eyes of the mask, the man’s dark gaze is full of something Obito can't even begin to read. “Why is a witch on the battlefield?” he asks. “Where’s your rider—”

“Dead,” Obito snaps, and the severed bond _aches_ , a hundred times worse than the cut on his chest. “And I'm here for the same reason that everyone else is—Kumo's threatening my _home_ , and I'm going to defend it.”

There's a long, long moment of silence. “Dead,” the stranger repeats. “You—Minato said Kamui fought—”

“With _me_!” Obito retorts, bristling, and he shoves to his feet, takes a step back to put space between them and runs right up against Kamui's bulk. “She fights with me, not with any asshole who thinks they should be our rider, that position is _already filled_ —”

A sound, like a gasp, or maybe helplessness. The masked man surges up, and suddenly he _isn't_ masked anymore, the mask falls aside to clatter to the ground, and there are hands on Obito's face, an arm dropping around his waist. He has half an instant to register the dark hood being pulled back, and then—

Skin against skin as a glove drops, and Obito _knows_.

 _Kakashi_ , he wants to cry, but there's a mouth against his, stealing the name. Kakashi—here, here and _alive_ , Obito can't even _think_ —kisses him, reaches and Obito's mind has been a shredded mess for _decades_ but the sudden wash of cool relief is like a healing spell that’s finally able to touch his soul. He gasps against Kakashi’s mouth, cries out as raggedly shorn edges slide smoothly into place, and shudders. His knees buckle, but so do Kakashi’s, and they drop, still tangled together as they land on their knees in the damp leaflitter.

Kakashi tastes foreign, feels _strange_. There's something else to his magic now, something Obito has never felt before. Cool water, to go along with the lightning-edge, but it’s still undeniably _Kakashi_ underneath, pressed right up against Obito's soul the way he hasn’t been in so very, very long.

“Kakashi,” he gets out, ragged, and Kakashi breathes out against his lips, almost a laugh. Cups Obito's face, tracing fingers over his scars, and closes his eyes.

“Obito,” he returns, and Kamui settles herself against their minds, wraps herself around them like a protective shroud and croons, low and sweet. Kakashi laughs, breathless, and rests his forehead against Obito's like he’s trying and failing to find his control.

Obito stares at his face, not the child’s face he remembers, but—what Kakashi should be. A dragon rider, lean and toned, heavily armed, with magic sparking under his skin. Here, _alive_ , and—

“You _died_ ,” Obito says, digging his fingers into Kakashi’s arms, trying not to clutch him close. “You died, I _felt it_ —”

Kakashi’s smile is wry, just the barest slant of humor. “Knowing that our dragon can jump between dimensions,” he says, “makes how I survived _so much more reasonable_.”

Obito remembers the rocks coming down, the moment before impact as the shell of the egg cracked open. Remembers the instant _mind-soul-touch- **becoming**_ as Kamui burst into being, a piece of his magic given form. The rocks had caught them a moment later, but in that one instant, Obito had thought _I have to save Kakashi_ , and the magic had risen, so much more powerful than it ever was before, so much more _immediate_ , and he flung it out like a spear—

For nothing, he’d thought. Kakashi disappeared a moment later, gone from the world, and Obito's own world had crumbled, shattered all the way through.

 _Sent him elsewhere?_ Kamui asks curiously, watching them with burning eyes and gentle warmth. _Saved him after all_.

Obito's laugh cracks out of his throat. “Where the hell did you _go_?” he demands.

Kakashi smiles, eyes crinkling. “I got lost on the road of life,” he says, and Obito doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry, because he _never_ used an excuse that dumb. Kakashi must read that on his face, because he chuckles, sweeping a thumb under Obito's eye like he expects him to be the same idiotic crybaby he was twenty years ago.

“Uzushio,” he says, quiet, and his fingers slide around to cup the back of Obito's neck. “I landed in Uzushio, and the princess took me in. She finally found a way back for me, too.”

Obito closes his eyes, and his next breath trembles. Uzushio, the lost magical island submerged in the depths of the ocean. That’s the cool-water edge to Kakashi’s magic; he must have learned their skills while he was there. And—what Utakata and Kotetsu found on their patrol, it must have been Kakashi. “I thought you were _dead_ ,” he says again.

Kakashi’s grip tightens on him, just slightly. “I thought you’d picked someone else,” he says, a little hoarse. “Someone who wasn’t—cruel to you. Minato mentioned another rider—”

“I hate all of them,” Obito spits, vicious and not about to change that. “They wanted to take your place, but we’re _your_ witch and dragon, they can't have us.”

Kakashi kisses him again, teeth and intent and _heat_ , burning heat seared right through Obito's thoughts and down into his soul. Wraps his arms around Kakashi, hauls him in, and Kakashi spills them onto the forest floor, tangled together in body the same way they are in mind.

“I tired for so long to get back,” Kakashi says, closing his eyes, and Obito can feel the truth of those words, the ache of time and loneliness and the same pain from the torn bond. Some dragon riders and witches can move on; clearly, _clearly_ neither Obito nor Kakashi managed anything close. “Kushina searched every spell in Uzushio, and it took so long—”

“You’re here now,” Obito says, and drags him into another kiss. If he has anything to say about it, Kakashi’s never going to leave his side again.

Kamui echoes the same through their bond, heavy dragon-thoughts layered with fire and determination and a sharp-edged dare at the world all around them. There are still so many broken pieces in Obito's chest, so many fragments, but—

With Kakashi here, with that lightning-bright, familiar soul tangled up with his, Obito thinks he might have finally found the pieces to fit up against all of his broken parts. And if it doesn’t make them whole, that’s fine. Obito's spent twenty years learning to function as he is. But…it blunts the sharpness, might keep Obito from cutting his own mind to shreds. Might keep Kakashi from the same, and that’s far more than Obito ever thought to ask for.


End file.
